What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?
by Spectra16
Summary: What would the characters of Harry Potter do for a Klondike bar? Hermione, Quirrel, Snape, Lucius, Hagrid, Ron, Trelawney, pretty much everyone is in here. And finally featuring . . . HARRY! Now taking ideas for Dumbledore!
1. Hermione

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: This idea was started in the lunch line at my school, which is like how my other stories are started. . . In the lunch line. Yeah. What would you do for a Klondike Bar?

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter. Der.

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Chapter One: What Would Hermione Do For A Klondike Bar?

Hermione Granger shook with anticipation in her seat. Ron and Harry had been starring at her with a quirked eyebrow for about 30 minutes, during their Divinations class. Professor Trelawney was currently talking about signs of future careers, and how getting the last of something in a basket of food meant you were going to be an old maid (inside joke, ignore that). Ron and Harry kept a close eye on Hermione, whom was still shaking and twitching. They hadn't heard a word of Trelawney's lesson since Hermione started muttering something about "needing a smoke in the library".

The strangest part of this Granger phenomenon was the fact that she was wearing a bright, fire truck red moped helmet. No one had yet questioned this. Ron was about to when he looked at the clock and saw that it was 30 minutes past the beginning of class. He looked back at Hermione, but just as he opened his mouth to say something, Hermione gasped and put her head down and swiftly pulled her helmet off. She started fanning herself and grabbed a bottle of water from the floor. She drank and swished it around in her mouth for a few moments, Harry and Ron still flabbergasted.

"Hermione? What was that all about?" Harry asked first. Hermione had finally peeled her eyes away from Trelawney and looked at Harry and Ron as if in great relief.

"I was promised that if I could pay attention to her for 30 minutes, I would receive a Klondike bar," Hermione smiled and finally regained her breath. Ron and Harry's jaws dropped.


	2. Quirrel

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: Yes, I admit. These are quite strange. And only going to get stranger. I've put myself under some requirements. These stories can be no longer than one standard Microsoft Works page. And they must be totally weird and action packed. Sorta. This one is OOBER short. Because there's not much to say about it.

Disclaimer: Dunt own Potter and Pals. And Potter Puppet Pals.

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Chapter Two: What Would Professor Quirrel Do For A Klondike Bar?

"I'D SELL MY SOUL TO VOLDERMORT FOR A KLONDIKE BAR!" Quirrel yelled and stood up on a table. The teachers of Hogwarts eyed him, wondering what had possibly possessed him to say a thing like that.

After a few moments of awkward silence, Dumbledore laughed.

"My, what an interesting sense of humor you have!" Dumbledore chuckled. Professor Quirrel took a bow, and returned to his seat.

Snape visibly threatened Quirrel about wanting his job and his life. The teachers ignored it.

Thunder rolled in the sky, and Trelawney stood up and waved her hands around.

"I sense a change in the weather!" She started making "ooooo" sounds, as if trying to frighten the other teachers.

Professor Flitwick held a potted plant (very normal) close to his chest and shifted his eyes at everyone in the room.

Professor McGonagall steepled her fingers, pondering the horrible fate of anyone who dared to defy her.

Filch was in the corner of the room, picking dirt out of his toes.

Professor Dumbledore looked around at the collection of highly estranged teachers and shrugged.

"Naked time!"


	3. Snape

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: I should seriously be put to death for this next one.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter of Sevvie-kins.

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Chapter Three: What Would Snape Do For A Klondike Bar?

Severus Snape marched angrily down the hallways, his cape flowing behind him as if he was Darth Vader. The angry look on his face looked a tad bit more pensive than normal, and Hogwarts students starred at him while he rampaged. Snape noticed Harry Potter and his pitiful Gryffindor friends as he passed them, but he didn't stop to make snide remarks or take points from Gryffindor because Harry's shoelace was untied, or Harry's glasses were dorky, or Mr. Potter was picking his nose. No, Severus Snape was on a mission.

A rather sarcastic Ravenclaw named William Dentley walked up behind Snape and comically imitated his march. Everyone, other than the Slytherins, were snickering and giggling. Will scrunched up his face and held out his cape a little.

After a few yards, William realized Professor Snape, Potions Master, was not going to swiftly turn around and stare him down. He gave up and went back to his Dark Arts class with Madeye Moody.

Snape continued toward Professor McGonagall's room.

He tried to avert her classes eyes and his slowed his walk toward McGonagall. She looked at him questioningly, but Snape said nothing. He stopped no more than a foot away from her. He clentched down on his jaw and then leaned over and kissed McGonagall. He pulled away quickly, wiped off his mouth and cursed under his breath.

"NOW WHERE'S MY KLONDIKE BAR!"

Several students walking down the hall could swear they heard slapping sounds and the faint voice of Professor Snape being kicked and beaten. They shrugged and skipped off to class.

"Ow."


	4. Ron

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: Thanks for your reviews! I've just recently read the 1-3 books and I honestly believed for a long time that since there is so many HP fics, that if I wrote something, few would read it. I'm surprised with my feedback!

This chapter was inspired by a one frame comic I found on Deviant Art by someone named Tanci. It's hilarious.

Disclaimer: Love and peace. I don't own HP. Hehe.

-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Four: What Would Ron Do For A Klondike Bar?

The "Boy Who Lived" and the "Red Headed One" schemed in their third year Potions class, which was no different from their first year potions class, or their second year potions class. They assumed it would also be no different from their fourth year potions class and their fifth year potions class and their sixth year potions class. The class seemed to have a permanent schedule.

-Class begins

-Harry and Ron come in late (either because they had run into a troll or McGonagall)

-Snape makes a snide remark about them being late and takes away house points

-He teaches them a completely useless potion, in which does not bewitch your mind OR ensnare your sense

-Hermione answers a question in which everyone else was oblivious to

-Snape takes away points from Gryffindor because Harry picked his nose

Ron had planned this for months. Harry smirked at Ron and pulled a tiny flask out of his robe pocket. The green liquid gleamed and the two mischievous boys and they patiently waited for Snape to inspect their cauldron. The Klondike bar would be worth the trouble they'd be in. Severus Snape approached the boys, wondering why they weren't adding goblin nails into their potion.

Snape leaned over the boys and Harry quickly dumped the green fluid in. A large explosion was heard through the Hogwarts corridors.

A blackened Snape glowers at the equally charred Ron Weasley and Harry Potter.

"That's a 0 for you both, a detention after school and 20 points from Gryffindor," Snape clenched his jaw, his hair standing completely upwards. "Now if you boys'll please locate my eyebrows."


	5. Oliver Wood

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: Someone suggested I do one of these chapters for every character. I'll try, but I probably won't succeed. Also, I'm open to ideas. Please.

Disclaimer: Hello? Hello? No? Okay. I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I wouldn't be writing FAN fiction. I'd be putting my ideas to book, and the editors would kick my ass back into shape, and my writings would turn out like J. K. Rowlings. I adore her editor. I adore her.

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Chapter Five: What Would Oliver Wood Do For A Klondike Bar?

It was a bright, sun shiny day for a high adrenaline Quidditch game, Gryffindor vs. Slytherin. The game was quite lively and violent, and few penalties were being called.

Several Slytherins decided to paint one of the letters of the word "Slytherin" on their bellies, and assemble themselves to spell the word. First year Draco Malfoy, being the letter I, had accidentally spelled the word "Slithern" and poor letter Y what so utterly confused that he ran off crying. The boys jumped up and down, screaming at their favorite players and chest bumped each other when they scored. The score was 140-120 for Slytherin.

The crowd was enthusiastic and nervous, except for Snape and Quirrel, who were busy cursing and counter-cursing, and counter-counter-cursing. Finally, Snape just turned around and kicked him in the shins. It had nothing to do with Hermione and Ron, whom were busy trying making out under the stands. (Why would Rowling lie?)

George and Fred were busy kicking a small Slytherin around the field. Harry was busy doing nothing while he waited for the other Seeker to find the Snitch, and for him to fly in and to save the day.

Oliver Wood sat on his flying broom in front of the Gryffindor goal, which is what every good keeper should do. Which was not a good thing for a seeker to do was watch as his team was scored upon. Wood flew back and starred at the Slytherin who threw the ball into the Gryffindor hoop. The Gryffindor stands gasped, and the Slytherins pissed themselves in laughter. Harry flew over to Oliver.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" Harry screamed. "You're ruining my glory!"

"I was promised a Klondike bar if I totally botched this game! YEAH!" Oliver Wood giggled and started singing the Milkshake song.


	6. Sirius Black

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: I want to shout out to Neil, the creator of Potter Puppet Pals. You make my life, man! Everything I have is because of you! Just kidding. I think your whole site is fun, even the stuff that isn't Potter Puppet Pals. Seriously man, make another one. I will very literally send you money if you do.

Disclaimer: I dunt own Harry "Froofy" Potter. And J. K. Rowling is my hero, but I like to make fun of certain aspects of her novel. I'm sure she'd understand.

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Chapter Six: What Would Sirius Black Do For A Klondike Bar?

In the main hall of Hogwarts, where everyone usually sat to eat, a large stage was set in front of the tables. There were lights, a sound system, amps scattered about, guitars, a drum set, a bass, and a lone piano. The performers shifted their weight nervously, about to begin their show.

The candle light dimmed at Dumbledore's whim, and a hush came over the crowd. Ron, Harry, and Hermione grinned wildly at the lead singer. His greasy hair hadn't been washed for his debut, but no one seemed to care. Professor Lupin hastily plugged in his Les Paul into his amp and played a chord to check the tune. Snape, looking quite pensive, rolled up the sleeves on this robes and sat at the piano. The other guitarist, Hagrid, was ready and waiting. The drummer, McGonagall, clenched her drum sticks.

The spotlight turned onto the lead singer. Sirius Black stood there, mic in hand. Everything was dead silent. He opened his mouth.

"I've paid my dues, time after time. I've done my sentence, but committed no crime," Sirius sang. Dementors at the back of the hall, of which had snuck in, where swaying back and forth to the beat. Harry wiped away a tear. "And bad mistakes, I've made a few."

The Weasley's (minus Percy) head banged to the guitar chords, and some Slytherins had pulled out lighters and started swaying them. George and Fred wore their t-shirts they had made, of which said "True Marauders rock!"

"But I've come through! We are the champions, my friends! And we'll keep on FIGHTING till the end! WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS! WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS! No time for losers, cause we are the champions . . .of the world!" Sirius sang with Lupin, Snape, and Hagrid as his back ups.

By now, the whole hall was singing and head banging to the guitar licks.

"WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS! NO TIME FOR LOSERS! WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS!" Sang the entire hall. Dumbledore stood up and a table and did the rock on sign. George and Fred had smuggled Butterbeer, and were now passing it around and spilling it everywhere. All because of a Klondike bar.


	7. Lucius Malfoy

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: You all should know I'm a fan girl. Here's the characters of Harry Potter that I support 210 percent.

Self-confessed Severus Snape fan (certified)

Self-confessed Sirius Black fan (certified)

Self-confessed Professor Lupin fan

Self-confessed Weasley twins fan

Self-confessed follower of Lucius Malfoy

I love to bash Harry, Trelawney, Draco, and Deathies (death eaters). I love them all, but I also love to bash. Just a forewarning for later. Since I'm being so political now, I might as well let you all know that I support no love interests.

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Chapter Seven: What Would Lucius Malfoy Do For A Klondike Bar? (good question)

The Death Eater meetings had become a tad bit more dull and drab since a few weeks ago, when it was finally established that everyone there that wasn't Voldemort was kissing Voldemort's ass constantly. Now, ideas were not being passed around because of the lack of creativity. Plots to take over the world had seemed so much more important when you were kissing Voldie's ass for it. But that didn't stop Lucius Malfoy from doing it.

"I propose we train gophers to burrow underground as a means to enter Hogwarts and take over it from the inside out. Dumbledore will be rendered helpless once we have the gophers on our side," Lucius spoke enthusiastically. The rest of the Death Eaters groaned and slouched in their chairs. Lucius was starting to become a nuisance.

One particular in the closet Death Eater, whom sat next to Lucius, leaned over to him and nudged his side.

"Yes?" Lucius asked. The other Death Eaters watched curiously.

"I'll give you a Klondike bar if you stop kissing Lord Voldermort's ass," The man said and held a sparkly, silver wrapped Klondike bar. Mr. Malfoy's eyes widened with anticipation.

"Okay," He said, and snatched it from him.

Lucius Malfoy never spoke another word of kiss-ass-ness. In fact, after that, he found God and starred in his own children's television show called Mr. Rogers Neighborhood, even though his name was not Mr. Rogers. He did the show until he died an old man without long hair, and next to no magical powers.


	8. Trelawney

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: I have nothing to say except that I'm surprised at how much inspiration I've gotten. Oh yeah, this chapter was suggest by a reviewer. Good suggestion. Always welcome. Thankies.

Disclaimer: I don't own Potter or songs to wear pants to.

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Chapter Eight: What Would Professor Trelawney Do For A Klondike Bar?

Divinations. . . Yay. Best class ever. Not.

Harry had fallen asleep on his palm again, and Ron was very close to sleeping as well. Hermione resorted to making origami with her parchment. She had made at least 40 paper cranes. Trelawney randomly would yell a word that was in her sentence, as if she was hit in the head too many times.

"Palm reading everyone! Come on! Take out your palms!" She twinkle toed around. Ron groaned and pushed Harry's arm out from under him and he jerked awake. Trelawney immediately walked over to Harry's hand and looked at it.

"Hey look, you have a long destiny line. That means your luck is good," She chirped and moved onto Hermione. All three of their jaws dropped.

"Did you just say something good about Harry's life?" Ron sputtered. Harry and Hermione were equally as confused. Maybe Trelawney had forgotten about Harry's horrible life. She probably was only half paying attention.

"Yes. Well he does! Look!" Trelawney grabbed Harry's hand intrusively and yanked it towards Ron's line of sight. Ron quirked an eyebrow.

"You know, I never would've known the difference if you had said his destiny was bad," Ron said reluctantly. Harry looked up into Trelawney's eyes and nodded.

"Why would I lie to you? That would defeat the purpose of teaching you children these magical things!" Trelawney smiled at Ron.

A few rows back in the classroom, Draco pulled out a revolver and shot himself. Everyone looked back at his empty seat.


	9. Filch

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: I'm making Harry Potter puppets. I have the plans for Hermione, Ron, Harry, Snape, and Dumbledore. Pretty sure that's all I'll do. Once I'm done, I'll put a link on this story to show you pictures of them.

By the by, I know they were cloaks. I just like using the word cape.

Disclaimer: WHAT HAVE I BEEN TELLING YOU FOR THE LAST EIGHT CHAPTERS! I DON'T OWN HARRY POTTER! I NEVER WILL! So let's just leave it at that. I've never writing the sentence "I do not own Harry Potter" ever again! WE ALL UNDERSTAND I DON'T! starts chewing on the floor and rolls around

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Chapter Nine: What Would Filch Do For A Klondike Bar?

Harry Potter, destined to become great at age 1, was doing his monthly wandering, cloaked in his Invisibility Cloak thing. His Marauder's map was clamped tightly in his hand and his eyes were shifting, hoping he would not cause a ruckus and gain attention from Hogwart's cleaning slave, Filch.

Just as he thought this precaution in his head, he tripped over Mrs. Norris.

"RAAWRGH!" Mrs. Norris seemed to explode in shock and anger. Harry's eyes bugged out as he tripped over the feline, and onto his face.

"Ow," He winced and picked himself up. To his horror, several thing revealed themselves to him. For one, cat hair was strewn across the floor. Two, his cloak had fallen off. And the most fearful thing that was presented, was Filch, standing a few yards away, wondering how the hell Harry Potter had magically appeared from out of nowhere. Harry gasped and squeezed down on his sacred map.

Filch kinda just starred at him. Harry winced, wondering what kind of horrible yelling Filch would dive into. But for a few awkward moments, nothing came. Harry opened his eyes again. Filch had not moved. Harry snorted.

"Aren't you going to grab my ear and pull me down to Snape's office and beat me with a ruler or something?" Harry asked, hastily picking up his cloak. Filch shrugged in apathy.

"Not really," He said quietly, but still audible. Harry quirked an eye brow at him.

"Why?"

"I was told that if I stop acting like a gerbil is up my ass, I'd receive a Klondike bar," Filch smiled happily, and licked his lips. Harry nearly fainted.


	10. Hagrid

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: This chapter is really strange. I mean, stranger than the other chapters. . . Which is strange.

Disclaimer: Didn't I already rant and rave about how I will never own harry potter? Yeah, I did. I still feel obligated to write a disclaimer. Is that wrong?

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Ten: (Wow, I got to chapter ten) What Would Hagrid Do For A Klondike Bar?

Ron, Hermione, and boy wonder stood in a line, in Hagrid's love shack. Hagrid had told them he had a surprise and he wanted to show them before anyone else. Hermione and Ron was expecting another dangerous creature, preferably a dragon. Harry had stopped expecting things since he saw Tom Riddle on TV advertising tooth paste. ("Minty freshness on your teeth! Isn't that what you want, Muggles? Yummy freshness! Did you know that back in Roman times, they used urine as mouth wash! Apparently, they preferred Spanish urine, whatever that means! See? I know a great deal about Muggle scum!" Tom never stopped showing his yellow teeth during the commercial. His posture reminded Harry of Superman.)

Hagrid pulled a hide off of what seemed like a large object, to reveal a very Muggle looking object.

A treadmill. Harry and Hermione's jaws dropped. Ron has no idea of what it was.

"Hagrid! That's a Muggle machine! Why do you have that!" Harry asked, wondering if Hagrid had lost his mind.

"It will help me lose weight! I was told that if I lose 50 pounds in four weeks, I would get a Klondike bar!" Hagrid poked at the buttons on the machine, none of which worked (from lack of electricity in Hogwarts).

"Wouldn't a Klondike bar defeat the purpose?" Hermione asked.

Hagrid looked at her, with a quite dumbfounded look at that.


	11. Draco

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: I'm running out of ideas! HELP! SOS! Oh yeah, and for an update, I'm on the fifth Potter book. Order of the Phoenix. Yeah. So far, Harry's been doing a lot of bitching. Stupid git.

Also, I was told that I was spelling Voldemort wrong. Sorry. Nasty old habit. I say it VoldeRmort, so I constantly write it that way. Bad Anna. lightly smacks my face

Disclaimer: Wow. Everyone go to . I am Andrew Pant's droid.

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Chapter Eleven: What Would Draco Do For A Klondike Bar?

Draco strutted late into Potions class and eyed Harry, as usual. He sat down next to Crabbe and setup his cauldron. Nothing out of the ordinary happened.

"Mr. Potter! Ten points from Gryffindor for making Draco late!" Snape, the Potions Master, grumbled. Harry rolled his eyes, but didn't look at Snape. Snape leaned over him.

"Ten points from Gryffindor for rolling your eyes!" Snape pointed to him. The rest of the Gryffindors in the class really didn't care anymore. Harry didn't do anything this time.

"Ten points from Gryffindor because Harry is breathing too loud!" Snape broke down in evil laughter that he had been holding in for a VERY long time. Draco raised his hand. Snape regained composure and pointed at him.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Snape asked inquisitively.

"I don't think it's fair that you take points off because Harry is breathing. It's really your fault that he is. You're the one that betrayed Voldemort! It's your fault Harry isn't dead!" Draco said without any filching or remorse. Snape turned bright red.

"I'm going to pretend you never said that," Snape almost looked like he had been dumped. He walked away and started his lecture.

"Why did you stand up for Potter?" Crabbed asked, as if Malfoy was crazy.

"I was promised a Klondike bar. Duh. I love Klondike bars! They make me want to sing!" Malfoy sang in a falsetto voice to a Gwen Stefani song. "If I was a rich girl, na na na na na na! See I'd have all the money in the world, if I was a wealthy girl! Think what that money could bring, I'd buy everything."


	12. Sir Cardogan

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: As you may have noticed, I my favorite HP book so far is Prisoner of Azkaban. So yeah, that's why the setting is usually in that book. I like how Harry is perfectly normal in the 4th book, and then in the fifth, he's a whiny little knigget and emo. And then I heard he becomes perfectly normal in the 6th book. Something about him getting used to death.

Disclaimer: Go to google video and look for Harry Potter. There will be two results. Go to the one that **ISN'T** the Snape cookie one. It's so sad/hilarious!

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Chapter Twelve: What Would Sir Cardogan Do For A Klondike Bar?

Harry, Ron, and Hermione trudged up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room. Ever since the Sirius Black scare, the Fat Lady had been replaced with an arrogant picture of a knight, Sir Cardogan. He changed the password as often as a hacker in the 90s and liked to stall whilst students were boiling in anger. As a very vindictive man who never got much action on the battle field (or, the less likely, anywhere else), the students understood his need for the annoyances of others.

Ron and Harry starred up at Cardogan, while Hermione was busy scratching her face and neck.

"Password?" Sir Cardogan boomed. Harry clenched his jaw, knowing what kind of idiocy was coming.

"Fred Freddy Frederick Frederickson the Fourth is an inspirational postman in Ireland. He started working in 2001, going door to door," Harry continued with his story about Fred Freddy Frederick Frederickson the Fourth, while Sir Cardogan had made the speech the password. Neville found this most annoying, and had resorted to writing the whole thing down on parchment. Ron tapped his foot.

"And then the troll was defeated and all of the villagers were jovial. The end," Harry Potter shrugged. Sir Cardogan scratched his chin. Ron could sense Sir Cardogan deciding that he hadn't told the story enthusiastically enough.

"You may pass," Sir Cardogan opened. Harry, Ron, and Hermione's jaws dropped.

"What? You're just going to let us in?" Ron asked.

"For a Klondike bar, yes," Sir Cardogan fixed his posture and grinned, even though his helmet was in the way, and no one could tell.


	13. Bonus Stage!

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: Hello. Sup? Should be doing my homework right now. Oops. Hehe. This chapter won't take long.

Disclaimer: I heart Sirius. I do not own songs to wear pants to references.

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Chapter Thirteen: BONUS STAGE!

Sir Cardogan was talking in his sleep, in the dark stair corridor of Hogwarts. No one (except maybe Boy Wonder) ever asked for the password this late at night. Cardogan's armor clanked as he adjusted his sleeping position to relative comfort. He snorted.

"I duel you, Mr. Monarski!" Sir Cardogan mumbled in his sleep. He clutched his sword grip on his belt. "You shall not defeat me again, you pig dog!"

Sirius grimaced as he watched Sir Cardogan mumble. Sirius almost seemed to fade into the dark hall. He pulled out a small piece of paper from his pocket, in which he had the incredible luck of finding on the ground. He looked at it closely, but couldn't see it in the darkness. Sirius pulled out his black wand.

"Lumos!" He whispered and looked at the several paragraphs written down. "Hey!" Sirius called to Cardogan. The knight woke with a start.

"Who goes there!" Cardogan looked around and found Sirius. Sirius ignored the request of his name and started with the password.

"I am a cowboy," Sirius muttered. Cardogan looked up.

"That was the password from three hours ago! That's not good here!"

Sirius continued to read off the rest.

"I've got a snow globe gun. Everyone I know should have one," Sirius spoke clearly.

"Nope." Sirius grunted.

"NO! You're wrong! You like to sing songs about tobogganing!" Sirius spoke hastily. Cardogan shook his head. Sirius bit his lip. Only one left.

"I love bunny rabbits and unicorns and fuzzy feelings in my heart," Sirius winced and looked up at Cardogan. He opened. Sirius sighed and entered.


	14. Umbridge

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: If any of your were wondering, yes, I am insane. But my insanity has been worse, no doubt. I'm running out of inspiration again. Help! I can't keep up this mad escapade!

I have another Harry Potter story out now. I'm quite proud of it. It's a Lemony Snicket/ Artemis Fowl/ Harry Potter fic. The stories fit in quite well together. It needs some tweaking, but I love it already. Sorry, I have to do a little advertising. It's not really funny though. Kinda angst. But no obvious slash, in case you're sick of Draco/Artemis (I know I am!).

WARNING: Not a big Umbridge fan, and I haven't read the whole 5th book yet.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Fourteen: What Would Professor Umbridge Do For A Klondike Bar?

Harry walked to his 72nd detention, issued by Professor Umbridge, the pleasant yet demonic Dark Arts teacher, who apparently figured magic wasn't required to battle the Dark Lord. (Potter Puppet Pals proved this possible. Except not everyone can afford Uzies.) She looked up at Harry as he walked in the classroom, her pleasant smile was as sadistic as she was. Try as she may, her sugar coating the punishment wasn't helping at all. In fact, it almost seemed like she was rubbing it in his face.

Harry sat down with Umbridge's quill in hand. She quickly grabbed it away from him. He looked up, curious to her actions.

"Why are you using my sadistic-psycho-bitch quill? Here! Have a muffin!" She handed him a lemon poppy seed muffin. He quirked an eyebrow.

"Did you poison this?" Harry asked, half-sarcastically. She shook her head with a beaming smile on her face. He gingerly took a bite and didn't die.

"Since you've been such a nice boy, would you like to go outside and play with your friends?" She asked in a mother-like tone. Harry nodded, seriously confused.

"Out you go then!" She said musically. Harry walked slowly to the door and then turned around and murmured in a quiet voice.

"Why?" He asked, emo like.

"Let's just say, I'd be nice to even you for a Klondike bar," She never stopped smiling. Harry ran for his dear life to Quidditch practice. Professor Umbridge danced a bit before returning to her desk, awaiting the Klondike bar.


	15. HARRY POTTER!

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: It was brought to my attention that I had forgotten to include Harry from having a chapter. How strange. . . Well, this is that chapter. And you already have been warned that I bash him quite often.

Disclaimer: This chapter may be more than a page long, depending on how detailed I make it.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Fifteen: What Would Harry Potter Do For A Klondike Bar?

Before Harry had been admitted in Hogwarts, he spent most of his time in a cupboard under the Dursley's stairs. His parents had been killed in a tragic "car accident", and his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia treated him as if there were no such thing as social workers.

"Oh well," Harry squeaked and continued to play with some sock puppets he had fashioned. Uncle Vernon seemed to have heard the two word monologue and kicked the door.

"SHUT UP IN THERE!"

Harry wandered through the hallways of Hogwarts, Slytherins (mostly Malfoy) making fun of him, and the rest of the school avoiding him because of the Chamber of Secrets being opened. Still, Harry's spirits weren't crushed. He skipped along, singing "Down By the River Side".

Harry stood face to face with the wizard that had slaughtered his parents, sitting through his boring speech about how he was reborn and such. Harry tapped his foot a little, and when Voldemort was done with his lecture, Harry fought him off with a dead peer of his. He returned to Hogwarts with Cedric. He stood up and started smiling.

"I kicked Voldemort's ass!" he cheered, as everyone was wondering why Cedric had decided, now of all times, to take a nap.

Harry read a letter from Sirius during his fifth year. Sirius seemed very cross. The letter said something about Dumbledore didn't care about Harry anymore and was going to join the Death Eaters. Oh yeah, and I'm dead.

Harry put the letter down and smiled.

"At least I'm getting a Klondike bar!" Harry smiled widely as everyone wonders why he's not bitching and complaining about why his life sucks, or why he's not crying, or why he's not trying to get into Cho's pants.


	16. Lockhart

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: GASP! Need. . . . More . . . Inspiration . . .GASP! Death.

Disclaimer: I appreciate you all reviewing my story. I'm willing to make a giant homage to you all (without spending money, I'm saving up for a catapult). I mean, I own quite a few things that would do well as homage. For instance, low cut cowboy boots, a Sonic, Vash, and GIR plush toys, A Snape action figure with one hand and no feet (result of my friend's dog needing bewitching), the Artemis Fowl series, a Splinter Cell Chaos Theory band (I'd rather keep this), an insane amount of oyster crackers, and a dusty N64.

Also, I will be adding my OC in this chapter, for no reason.

-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Sixteen: What Would Lockhart Do For A Klondike Bar? (dear God . . .)

As the second year Dark Arts class began, Ron and Harry watched Hermione act attentive and haughty as usual. Ron shook his head, disgusted.

"How can she fancy a man as fairy-like as Lockhart?" Ron felt like spewing. Harry also swallowed hard.

"Now everyone, take out your "How To Properly Care for Dark Creatures Uglier Than The Author of This Book" by me. Hurry," Lockhart seemed to not be acting quite as annoying as usual. There was a strange adhesive medical strip on his cheek. The rest of the students noticed this. It appeared that all of the pictures of himself had been taken off the walls and were now were out of sight. Draco, being the unintelligent, git that he is, raised his hand promptly.

"Yes, Mr. Malfoy?" Professor Lockhart asked inquisitively.

"Why aren't you acting like you have an ego the size of Jupiter?" Draco asked, hoping to stir something up. Lockhart sighed.

"I was promised a Klondike bar," Lockhart's voice quivered. "And . . . I have a pimple!" he started crying and ran out of the room. Everyone quirked an eyebrow.

Caspian, the teacher's assistant, stood up as if this kind of thing happened everyday. She was a vivacious Gryffindor, and she rose her hands up in the air.

"I am the substitute for this class. Today, I will be teaching you how to freestyle!" She announced, and pulled out a Muggle boom box, that she had bewitched to work without electricity. Some strange song played.

"What the bloody hell does 'super fly' mean?" Asked Ron. Harry shrugged.


	17. Lupin

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: This chapter is going to be very short, and also very copied. I found a live journal avatar that had what I'm about to put down in writing. I wish I had come up with it. If you want the icon, just e-mail me and I'll send it to you. I do not take credit for this (but I sure as hell wish I could). Enjoy. This one is going to be short.

Disclaimer: Like I just said, I don't own what I am writing. I'm just giving it more detail.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Seventeen: What Would Professor Lupin Do For A Klondike Bar?

He'd admit it, that's what he's do for a Klondike bar.

Harry looked into the eyes of his Dark Arts teacher that had been a friend to him for so long. With a look of disbelief, Harry asked Lupin about the truth.

"You're really a werewolf?" Harry asked, his mouth open in shock. Lupin nodded a little.

"Yes."

"Are you fucking serious!" Harry shouted a little, wondering if he shouldn't have. Lupin nodded again.

"Yes, that too," He looked down at his shoes. Harry was taken back.

"What?" Harry asked, not understanding what he meant by that. Lupin's eyes widened, realizing Harry didn't just ask what Lupin thought he asked.

"Oops. Too much information," Lupin nearly laughed.


	18. The Potions Master

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: I had a crazy idea for this chapter, and I had to disregard the fact that this chapter now has two chapters. So yeah, too bad.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Eighteen: What Would Snape Do For A Klondike Bar?

_For a Klondike bar_, Snape thought to himself, _this isn't so hard_. The first few steps were though, in the Muggle department store. _If anyone asks, it's for my wife_, he planned. _Try not to say anything if they don't ask. _

He shifted uncomfortably, looking around him. His mind went back and forth from wondering if this was worth a Klondike bar. _This was a tad embarrassing. _

_And who was doing this? Who is providing the Klondike bars? Was there a deeper meaning? _Snape's Death Eater tattoo started tingling. _Could it be him? Is he the one behind the Klondike bars? _

Snape denied it was him. Instead, he continued to buy a large, red hat, for his Red Hat Society party in two hours. He had borrowed (more like taken without permission) a purple dress him McGonagall. Hopefully, she'd never find out, there would be hell to pay.

-.-.-.-.-.-

A/N: If you don't know what the Red Hat Society is, please don't ask me. Just look it up on google.


	19. Fred and George

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: Nineteen chapters? This is bloody ridiculous! I'd better go watch Doctor Who and feel ashamed.

Disclaimer: I took a sick day today just to write this and my Harry Potter/Artemis Fowl/Lemony Snicket crossover. I'm starting to think there's something very wrong with me.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Nineteen: What Would Gred and Feorge Do For A Klondike Bar?

Fred and George ran across the darkened Quidditch field with a long package in hand. It was the night of the presentation of the Quidditch Cup champions, but the twins didn't care. They had been to Hogsmead just a few days before, and bought something especially worth having.

They stopped in the middle of the field and unwrapped the package. It was a bright red, dragon shaped fire blaster. Fred and George had forgotten it's beauty, since the last time they had looked at it . . . Five minutes ago.

"I do believe we would've done this without the bribe of a Klondike bar," Fred laughed. George nodded. This was just one more thing in their routine.

George stood it up as Fred lighted the fuse with his wand.

"Okay, run!" Fred said, but George didn't move.

"We forgot the stand!" George realized. Fred swore.

"Just hold it!" Fred said. George pushed it at him, and Fred caught it.

"Are you blimey crazy? I'm not holding it!" George yelled. Fred pushed it back. George pushed it to him again. And in an instant, sparks from the bottom blazed out and shot into the sky. Fred and George were left on the ground, black as coal and smoking.

Somewhere in Middle Earth, Gandalf looked into the sky and felt familiar with the situation.

The sky was in blazes, colors of every kind lit up in the sky, and everyone crowded by the windows of the school to see. Fred and George felt pretty proud of themselves, until Hagrid came up from behind them and grabbed their ears, dragging them to the school.

"You half scared Buckbeak to death, you blasted Weasley's!" Hagrid dragged them to McGonagall, cursing up a storm.


	20. Dobby

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: I have to thank Krista for reminding my that Dobby was alive. Also, that last chapter was written before I knew about Fred and George's . . .(ahem) explosive leaving of Hogwarts.

Disclaimer: Sorry everyone, but I couldn't resist a little crossover. I also do not own the speech that Gollum gave on the Two Towers DVD easter egg.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Twenty: What Would Dobby Do For A Klondike Bar?

Little Dobby couldn't resist doing something for the sake of a Klondike bar. In fact, little Dobby really couldn't resist anything. He helped a stumbling, not to mention drunken Gollum up a vast volcano.

"Just a little bit more, Gollum. It's not too far now," Dobby said pathetically. Gollum was still in a drunken rage.

"BLOODY HOBBITS'S! CURSE THEM! Bloody, ranchy feets!" Gollum screeched. Dobby was near tears as they reached the peak of the mountain. Gollum was still unaware of what was going on.

"CURSE THEM! BLOODY FUCKING HOBBITS!" Gollum stomed. Dobby pulled him closer to the side.

"Now, kind Gollum, give me the One Ring," Dobby didn't expect this to go over well with Gollum.

"NO! Bloody fucking hobbits's wants me precious s s s! MY PRECIOUS!" he fell flat on his face. Dobby, completely sober, helped him up.

"You leave Dobby no choice," Dobby had a look of determination on his face. He stood Gollum up at the tip of the drop off. He then pushed him off. Dobby had an emo tear leave his eye, and then he walked back to Hogwarts to claim his Klondike bar. On the way there, he found two hobbits who looked completely lost, and kept searching relentlessly for a "precious". Whatever that means.


	21. Cedric

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: This chapter made me piss myself in laughter. It's in remembrance of Cedric.

-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Twenty-one: What Would Cedric Diggory Do For A Klondike Bar? (heaven forbid)

The final moments were nigh, as Harry and Cedric stood in front of the Triwizard trophy, trying to decide who deserved it more. The other two competitors were far behind. Harry bit his lip.

"Go ahead, Cedric," Harry said. Cedric shook his head, hiding a smile.

"No Harry. You deserve this," he spoke with near empathy. Harry sighed.

"We'll do it together. On three," Harry looked at the trophy with gleam in his eye. Cedric nodded.

"One. . ." Harry breathed. Cedric's face lit up.

"Two. . ." Harry gasped. Cedric touched it. Harry's jaw dropped. Cedric picked it up and started evilly laughing.

"YES YES YES! OH BABY YEAH! IT'S MINE! IT'S ALL MINE! IN YOUR FACE!" Cedric pointed at Harry's face. He started shimmying and dancing.

"What the hell! We were gonna win it together!" Harry ripped it out of his hands.

"Kiss my arse!" Cedric ripped it back and ran off. He didn't stop running until he got to a dark alley way in Hogsmead where he pawned off the trophy for a Klondike bar.


	22. Lee Jordan

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: Aw! Someone hated my Harry chapter! Oh well.

Visit my photo bucket! I finally can make live journal icons! Just go to photo and search for Spectra16! I gots the goods!

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Twenty-three: What Would Lee Jordan Do For A Klondike Bar?

"Beautiful day for Quidditch, eh? The kind of weather I'd like to go skinny dipping in!" Lee sounded rather professional today. McGonagall took a few moments to process what Lee had just said.

"Skinny dipping? Honestly, Lee!" She hissed.

"Sorry, Professor. Oh! That looked like a hard hit, taken by Goyle. Here comes the bludger Fred! Oh, that was close! Oh here it comes . . . . YEAH! Score for Gryffindor! SLYTHERIN SUCKS MONKEY BALLS!" Lee Jordan screamed and stood up to swing his hips. McGonagall's eyes bugged out of her skull.

"LEE JORDAN! Ten points from Gryffindor! What are you thinking?" She screeched.

"Sorry Professor-oh! Nice save Ronald Weasley! Took one for the team, he did! Oh! Malfoy, the brattiest bitch in the school just spotted the Snitch! I heard he had sex with Tyson just last night-" Lee was then carried away by McGonagall to be put through the detention of his life. He somehow, escaped her grip and ran back to his loud speaker.

"REMEMBER ME! I did this for a Klondike bar! Everyone should know it!" Lee seemed to be having the time of his life. Most of the people in the stands heard him and laughed. They then heard a loud snap of a slap, and silence for the rest of the game, until someone broke into the box and started commentating, now that McGonagall was busy with Lee in the school.

"Hello? Is this thing on? I'm Snape, the Potions Master. I like unicorns and kissing a picture of Sarah Michelle Gellar," The voice said. McGonagall hastily apparated back to the box, and found Dumbledore under the desk with the loud speaker in hand.


	23. Rita Skeeter

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: Hello everyone! I hate to self advertise (I think I already have), but I wrote a crossover fic about Prisoner of Azkaban. Please read it. It's called "A Dreadfully Convenient Crossover and the Prisoner of the Arctic Incident". It has Harry Potter, Artemis Fowl, and Lemony Snicket in it. Even if you haven't read those books, I try to explain what's happened so far, so that everyone can understand it. I've very proud of it so far. It's 70 pages as of today. I'm quite pleased with myself.

Oh, and to get to my photo bucket, I found out that you can't just type in photo bucket dot com and Spectra16. You have to go to the photo bucket web site and search for Spectra16. If you still can't get there, go to my xanga (xanga dot com slash Spectra16) and there will be a link at the end of the first entry. Or just go down until you see some .gif files and the link will be there as well.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Twenty-four: What Would Rita Skeeter Do For A Klondike Bar?

Rita Skeeter, prize reporter of the Daily Prophet, was reporting on a man that claimed to have been raised by kangaroos.

"Well, once I was old enough to realize that I was human, and not a kangeroo, I went searching for my own kind. Unfortunately, some dingos came and started eating me alive. Fortunately, a bear chased them off. Unfortunately, the reason why was because he wanted to eat me-" Rita interrupted the man, from taking notes.

"OW!" She howled.

"What? What?" The man asked nervously, seeing that Rita was clutching her hand.

"I got a cramp!" She wailed. He seemed puzzled.

"Don't you have a Quick Quotes Quill that will do the work for you? I heard that-" She interrupted him again.

"I know! But I was promised a Klondike bar if I wrote without magic! OH MY GOD IS THAT A CALLUS! NO! Not my freshly manicured hands! I'll look like a cotton picker by the end of the day! This sucks!" She complained, instead of interviewing the man raised by kangaroos.


	24. Neville

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: This is my hero chapter. Kudos to Neville! Bad, Malfoy. No biscuit.

Self promoting again! My crossover called A Dreadfully Convenient Crossover and the Prisoner of the Arctic Incident seems to be taking it well. I'm already on over 100 pages! MEEP! I've slaved over it. I cannot believe I've been sitting on my butt, writing it for over three weeks. I feel like a complete and total nerd. I was printing it out one day (because it's so much more fun to read when it's on paper) and the girl next to the printer was like, "Did you write all that?" and I was like, "Hells yes!" It was well over 70 pages on point 8 font. I feel . . . Empty inside.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Twenty-five: What Would Neville Do For A Klondike Bar?

Harry and Ron exchanged horrified looks. They had not known what kind of unseen force had completely kicked Snape in the stomach, but it definitely was uttered from Neville Longbottom's mouth. Neville looked unreasonably cool about the situation at hand. Assuming someone else would have the balls to do what Neville had just done, they would've had a look of horror now realizing what they had said. Neville breathed in drastically, as his classmates starred at him with jaws dropped.

Snape wiped a piece of his greasy hair from his face and starred Neville down. He crossed his arms in a rather intimidating way and strode up to Neville's seat.

"What was that?" A large vein was popping out of Snape's forehead. Neville answered him nonchalantly.

"I said, 'Stick it, you're not my real dad'," Neville repeated those deadly words. There was muffled snickers and whispers passed through out the room. Snape had apparently wished he had heard wrong, but apparently Neville had gathered up the courage to "stick it to the man". Snape attempted to keep his cool.

"And what would possess you to say such a thing?" Snape asked, ready for an attack. Neville shrugged.

"The promise of a Klondike bar," Neville smiled rather slyly at Snape. Ron promptly stood up and started slow clapping. Soon, most of the Gryffindors did the same.


	25. Ginny

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: WOO! I finished my Arty/Harry/Lemony crossover! YAY! I'm continuing the series though, because I'm an ultra nerd. Very seriously, that story is 54,000 words. I printed it in point 8 font and the packet is beyond stapling. Anyways, (cough) I'm not advertising at all. Nope. In addition, for those of you who want to know who's handing out all of these Klondike bars, the answer is coming soon!

Has anyone ever read Barry Trotter and the Shameless Parody? It's pretty low quality writing. I mean, even I could do a better parody than that! DISS! Yeah. Maybe it gets better. But so far, there has been countless dumb jokes and Harry doing weed in a pipe. Yes, low quality is right.

WARNING TO FLAKY READERS: This chapter makes fun of Ginny and Tom Riddle's Diary. Please do not flame me. You have been warned.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Twenty-six: What Would Ginny Do For A Klondike Bar?

So, Ginny went on her daily stroll around the Forbidden Forest. Since it was forbidden, she never actually went in. But on this particular day, she came across a strange, hooded man with a leather book.

"Hello," she greeted him. He nodded her off and handed the book to her.

"What is this?" She asked.

"It's a diary. If you write in it, I will personally give you a Klondike bar," He snickered evilly, but obviously, Ginny ignored this. She smiled at him and held the leather binding closely to her chest.

"Okay!" She ran up to the Gryffindor common room to write her first entry.

Dear Diary,

Today, Harry told me about defeating the Dark Lord. I think he's faking it. Also, I got good marks in Potions and Divinations! Yay! (little hearts are drawn) I think that Draco Malfoy boy is a smelly tart. Harry is so hot. I have a crush on every boy. Today, I tripped on Neville's wand and looked like an idiot in front of everyone.

_Wtf? Who's writing in my journal? I'm Tom Riddle. Wanna be my best friend?_

Sweet. The journal talks back to me! I doubt it has anything to do with dark magic! Will you be my friend Tom Riddle?

_Yes. Just let me get my hand out of my ass first._

Oh, Tommy! You're so funny!


	26. Harry squared

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: I'd like everyone to know that I am in love with Nyghtvision. But that's a given. Also, I would like everyone to know that I do not own this chapter. Sure, I wrote it, but I got the idea from an avatar I found searching photo bucket. And yes, I believe in a thing called love. Guitar solo! (air guitars a little)

I discovered a little indie band called Harry and the Potters. Better late than never, right? Anyways, I'm getting all of the cds. Love 'em.

-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Twenty-seven: What Would Harry Do For A Klondike Bar?

(A/N: Yes, I know I already made a Harry chapter.)

Harry furrowed his eyebrows as he brought this tiny white chalk to the green chalk board. The teachers rarely used these ancient chalk boards, and this time was an exception. Harry wrote his first sentence of two-hundred. Professor Lupin had told him to write it in cursive. Harry's loopy strokes became messy after the twentieth sentence. Harry's hand was starting to cramp up, and his head was getting heavy. The occasional screech of the chalk was not helping in the least. And Lupin seemed to pay no mind to it.

The seventieth sentence. Harry rubbed his eyes with the side of his hand, stilling holding a dwindling piece of chalk between his fingers. Harry wasn't sure how much longer he'd be able to stand it.

Seventy one. Harry blanched.

Seventy two. Harry's mind wasn't on writing anymore. He was thinking about exams, and Sirius and Buckbeak. He hoped they were alright, but it was very likely that they could be in danger.

Seventy three. Each loop of the letters filled Harry with annoyance. He wished he hadn't have said those things to Lupin, especially when it was for a Klondike bar.

Almost an hour later, Harry threw the pebble sized chalk away on the ground. Lupin looked up from his book, new scares on his face. He stood up and put his hands on his hips, looking over the board. It was filled with the same repeating sentence, two-hundred times over.

"I will not make jokes about Lupin's 'time of the month'."

Lupin smiled and patted Harry on the back.

"Alright. You may go."


	27. Draco squared

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: This chapter is strangely in light of the sixth book, since we all know Voldemort is a sadistic psycho bitch (like Umbridge) that wants Lucius to suffer. So here's what would've happened if life was all too simple. Anyways, I've started two new short story series like this one. One is about the diary entries of Tom to Ginny and the other is a series of bloopers, rather random might I add. The only reason why I put them into "Shortest Short Stories Ever" format is because they are the ideas I get while standing in the lunch line. Rather silly, I know, but oh well. Inspiration is pertinent.

I got my Harry and the Potters cds! Human Hosepipe is the best song next to All I Want for Christmas by Draco and the Malfoys! Season Depression by the Whomping Willows is pretty good too.

-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Twenty-eight: What Would Draco Do For A Klondike Bar?

Draco and Voldemort starred into the same apparatus, except Draco's eyebrows were furrowed, confused by this situation. Voldemort tried to hide the guilt in his soul. Wait, what soul? He sniffed and handed Draco a familiar looking utensil, made of metal.

"A fork?" Draco asked. Voldemort nodded.

"See, these kinds of locks cannot be opened by magic. You need this tool," Voldemort instructed, shifting his weight from his belly to his side, since the two of them were laying on a wood floor of a strange Muggle building. Draco seemed very confused.

"Forgive me for questioning you, Lord, but this is very strange to me," Draco began, but Voldemort was quick to speak over his doubts.

"Do you wanna be a Death Eater or not!" Voldemort asked sarcastically. Draco shrugged. Voldemort dug into his pocket and pulled out something in a silver wrapping.

"I'll give you a Klondike bar if you do it," Voldemort held it in front of his face. Draco licked his lips and didn't hesitate to put the fork into the hole. A strike of electricity flew through Draco, and Draco was able to pull the fork out. His hair was blackened, and his skin was smoking.

"WOW! That was fucking awesome!" Draco did it again. Voldemort nearly cried. His plan had not worked, so he was reduced to sending Draco to kill Dumbledore. But that fell through too. Eventually, Voldemort was reduced to dressing up as an old Russian woman and fattened up Draco with a ginger bread house and stuffed him in the oven and baked a nice meat Draco pie out of him. Yes, Lucius would finally mildly feel bad. . .


	28. Whodunnit

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: This chapter is kind of strange. Just for the story effect, I'm not going to say who did this insane act for a Klondike bar. Truthfully, it could've been anyone.

Sirius: Like me?

A/N: No, not like you.

Disclaimer: I don't own the empty souls in this chapter.

A/N: Stop being so emo!

-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Twenty-nine: What Would Anyone Do For A Klondike Bar?

Snape had Draco by the wrist, almost dragging him to the Great Hall. There was a look in his eyes that was usually reserved for Potter. Draco wasn't particularly caring about what someone had done to him. It was all a good joke, and at the same time, it wasn't. He didn't know what he had never thought of doing something like this to Pansy or Goyle.

Snape burst through the doors, and almost everyone who was eating breakfast was looking at him. He stormed, cape flowing, towards Dumbledore at the head table, sitting next to Minerva and Reubus. Dumbldore wasn't fazed by any of this. In fact, Snape usually made this kind of imposing entrance into the Great Hall in the morning. The only person who was still intimidated by this was Neville, and even now, his fears were fleeting.

Snape yanked on Draco's sleeve, revealing a black symbol, the skull with a snake coming out of it's mouth. Neither the snake or the skull were drawn very well. In fact, the snake was just a long looking tube with a smiley face on the head. Dumbledore stifled a giggle just as he saw it. Snape ignored Dumbledore's snort.

"One of the students thought it would be funny to draw the Dark Mark on Draco's arm last night!" Snape bellowed. By now, most of the students had quietly left their seats to look at it. Seamus took a picture of it with the camera he hadn't used since second year. Hermione, Ron, and Harry were on the floor in stitches. Luna screeched with giggles. Even some Slytherins laughed. Snape was unfazed by this laughter. He spun around and glared at everyone in a collective pile. Everyone shut up immediately. Snape turned around to face Dumbldore.

"We should find out who did this immediately! These kinds of jokes, or any other jokes should not be allowed in Hogwarts!" Snape snapped. Draco covered his mouth, hiding a grin.

Somewhere, someone else grinned. A Klondike bar for this? It was basically, a win-win situation.


	29. Romilda Vane

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16

A/N: The author of this story is infuriated! -And infatuated with Scoutcraft Piratess and Nyghtvision. --But that's not the point! She's mad because her best story has been greatly ignored! A Dreadfully Convenient Crossover is being ignored by millions! GO READ IT!

Spectra: Actually, I really don't care. -.-

A/N: SHE LIES!

Disclaimer: Yes, I pulled this chapter out of my own ass, not someone else's. Amazing. I've stolen so many chapters from live journal icons. Yes, originality.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Chapter Thirty (insane number): What Would Romilda Vane Do For A Klondike Bar?

Romilda's infatuation with Harry Potter was both astounding and dangerous. She had resorted to drugging Harry with several highly expensive potions, selling her soul to the Dark Lord, killing small children to sacrifice to the Potter god, and a car accident involving her speeding at 150 miles per hour, hitting a small dog. She was also exiled from Lebanon and had three parking tickets.

So when she heard a mysterious, evil, dark, rugged, handsome, SOB was offering a Klondike bar to -ahem- exPOSE themselves in front of Harry, she was the first to sign up, and the first to get the idea of killing off the other applicants.

Romilda Vane vainly held together an unbuttoned trench coat, shifty eyed. She was in the Gryffindor common room, waiting for her prey. Harry would be arriving any minute now. Patience was key.

"WHAT ARE YOU STARRIN AT NEVILLE!" She snapped. Neville, wide-eyed, avoided confrontation with this lunatic. Harry then walked in the common room, unfortunately, not accompanied by his fan club, Ron and Hermione. Harry, as gullible as he is, didn't expect any rash behavior from Vane while they were alone together. This was, however, a horribly incorrect assumption. Romilda smirked evilly. Harry's world was in slow motion. His jaw slowly dropped and he made a horrified noise.

Romilda opened her jacket with a flash! Harry (still in slow-mo), was slowly turning to run out of the door, making a low, screaming sound.

"N O O O O O O O O O O O!" Harry was almost turned all the way around. Romilda, at normal speed, lunged at Harry, almost completely naked. Romilda's long, painted finger nails dug into Harry as she dragged him down on the floor. Harry, terrified, was slowly reaching for his wand to hex the hell out of her.


	30. Goyle

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16 (Thinks you should read her crossover)

A/N: I got this idea from a live journal icon once again. I feel bad that I steal this stuff. I've got an insane amount of icons. I don't even have a live journal. Ner. I'm not http advanced. Anyways, kudos to the people I get ideas from. Kudos to Sirius and Remus for being the hottest couple ever.

Dumbledore Is Not Dead DOT COM! I'VE SEEN THE LIGHT! Also, I've started a precursor to this story, called Harry Potter Bloopers. So far, so strange. I've also started the Semi Secret Diary Entries of Ginny Weasley to Tom Riddle, but I'm not so sure if I want to continue it. I've wanted to start more "Shortest Short Stories Ever" stories (like Tales from Behind the Veil and Lee Jordan Speaks Out, which I probably will start). Stay tuned!

PROBLEM: I know that somewhere, I missed a chapter or something. Once I find out which one it is, I'll post it in the wrong spot. Too bad. At least the rest will be in the right order.

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Chapter Thirty-One: What Would Goyle Do For A Klondike Bar?

In the darkness of the Slytherin common room, Goyle sat on a love seat, holding his right hand to his heart. Sometimes, being the bodyguard of a Malfoy caused so much pain, and agony. Poetry, sadness was what was left of Goyle. Life was no longer worth living. The rose of his beloved was crushed by a thousand 18-wheelers. This was the sort of thing that reduce you to putting your heart on your sleeve, and taking strange angled pictures of yourself with "scene-kid" hair and wearing poser/emo clothes.

"Hand me the gun, throw away the key. You try to make us what we can't be. I'll release your body-," Goyle was cut short by Draco and an equally confused Crabbe.

"What are you doing?" Draco's nasily voice broke. Goyle felt insulted.

"Angsting."

"Well stop it. It smells," Draco replied swiftly. Crabbe spoke up.

"Too true Draco."

"Shut up!" Draco turned and left to do some angsting of his own.

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A/N: SWEET DELIGHT! Next chapter is Alastor Moody! I heart Mad-eye!


	31. Mad Eye Moody

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16 (Kills Nazis. . . Dead.)

A/N: Hello all! Hope ya'll like Robbie Williams! Anyways, I found out today there's a mention of the Lovegood family in book 4! Weird. Wait, have I done a Luna chapter? I don't think so. I should. Meh. Anyways, I NEED inspiration for Dumbledore! Someone needs to help me! I want it to have something to do with lemony drops and socks, but I don't know! AAAH!

Disclaimer: I dunt own Potter. I got the idea for this chapter from an old friend I had that had a fake eye. Dress accordingly.

Warning: This is one of my best chapters.

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Chapter Thirty-two: What Would Mad Eye Moody Do For A Klondike Bar?

The Great Hall was a fantastic place to be during a Christmas feast. Everyone, except maybe Snape, was in good spirits and famished from a day's festivities. The most jolly at this time of year was Dumbledore. This was the time of year that brought out his rosie cheeks and his smile. McGonagall was usually less crabby at this time, Snape was sour as usual, and now, the new DADA teacher, Alastor Moody was finally getting a taste of Hogwarts. Although deep down inside, he was just as excited as the first years, he dared not show it. He wore a frown, shifty eyes, and he was intent on shaking Snape off as soon as possible.

All year, Snape had been coming to him constantly for DADA books and information about being "the greatest auror" of all time. Moody was tired of Snape's antics, and this would be his breaking point, on this very night.

Of course, other than the motive of getting Snape off of his back, he was promised a Klondike bar by a dark figure in the corner of Hog's Head. (Which, by the by, is not the smartest idea, trust me. The last time I decided to visit people in dark corners at Hog's Head, I woke up in an alley with a hangover, and empty cattle of Tequila, and a paper doll in my possession.) Finally, Moody was avenge himself.

Everyone was served a turtle soup and spoon. Alastor looked into it deeply. Snape sat beside him, already picking up the spoon daintily and blowing on the hot contents. Moody smirked and popped his magical eye out, putting it in the soup. He shut his eye and pushed the bowl over to Snape.

Work out your own conclusions.


	32. George and Fred squared

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16 (Might be hinting that she needs a beta reader)

A/N: OMFG! I'm going to a Harry and the Potters/Draco and the Malfoys concert! SQUEE! Draco and the Malfoys are so much better. Anyways, if you live nearby, July 9th, 2PM at the University Bookstore in Madison, Wisconsin. Come see me! I'll be the psychotic one with the video camera in Brian's face.

Disclaimer: I don't know why I didn't think of this chapter sooner (even though these two characters had a chapter). I found it on a live journal icon in photo bucket. I was so excited! And no, I'm not a George/Fred fan. Ew. Grodie. And I don't own Harry Potter inc.!

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Chapter Thirty-three: What Would George and Fred Do For A Klondike Bar Again?

George and Fred stayed clear of the rabid fan girls that were separated by just an electric fence. George and Fred soaked up as much of the attention as they could. Each of their egos looked quite like a fat sponge that one might use to scrub floors, and each of the sponge's almost held as much water as a small ocean. Fred waved frantically.

"Hello girls!" George greeted. Several girls (the weak ones) fainted. Others started crying. One girl looked severely disappointed.

"Where's Tom Felton?" She asked and promptly started searching for him.

"We'll be taking questions now!" Fred announced. One girl threw herself at the electric fence and got fried. Others frantically raised their hands.

"Do you both have girlfriends?"

"WILL YOU MARRY ME!"

"I LOVE YOU!" "Hey, that's not a question!"

And then, out of the blue. . .

"Would you guys make out with each other?" One meek girl asked. George looked at Fred.

"No way!" George exclaimed. Fred made a semi-annoyed face.

"What if we gave you a Klondike bar?" One girls asked. Fred and George's expressions changed, as if they were seriously considering it.


	33. Merope Gaunt

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16 (Just what the apathetic ordered)

A/N: Hey everyone. I got a deviant art to put all of my icons I made in. It's under the same pen name I use here, Spectra16. I use it everywhere. Yes, everywhere. Anyways, I figured this character probably needed a chapter, since you know, she's the reason why everything is messed up. And soon, a Luna chapter will come. I don't know what to do for her yet, but I'll find something relatively funny. I love Lovegood.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. The Remus Lupins kick so much ass. What? I wasn't just shamelessly promoting for a man I've never met.

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Chapter Thirty-four: What Would Merope Gaunt Do For A Klondike Bar?

Maybe you don't recall her name. What she is infamous for succeeds her name completely. She is the Dark Lord's mother.

"Hey, Merope, look at him! He's so hot!" A dirty blonde girl giggled as they were carrying pales of water up to their cottages. The man she had been starring at wore very expensive Muggle clothing and seemed to be walking somewhere quickly. Merope, undoubtedly, had fallen in love immediately, but she was nothing more than a peasant girl. It was obvious to her that he'd never love her in return. Nothing could change that.

Days went by, and with every pale of water, she saw him walking.

"What's his name?" Merope asked. Her friend, Miranda, shrugged.

"He's a Riddle. Their family is not known to have been wizarding folk. I don't remember his first name," Miranda admitted. Merope sighed loudly. Miranda looked at her only friend diabolically.

"I dare you to slip him a love potion," She said mischievously. Merope looked up, utterly shocked at her friend.

"No! That would be horrible! He wouldn't really love me! The effects would wear off!" Merope protested, although the thought had crossed her mind.

"I double dog dare you!"

"No way!"

"Would you do it for a Klondike bar?"

And that was how the wizarding world was inadvertently fucked up. All because of a Klondike bar.


	34. Prof Flitwick

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16 (It was a dark and stormy night. . . I take a creative writing class.)

A/N: 35 chapters is definitely embarrassing. For those you who were smart and only read the chapters of the characters you like, please note my favorites, ones you may have missed. (In order by chapter number) Quirrel, Snape (1), Ron, Oliver Wood, Sirius Black, Trelawney, BONUS, Lockhart, Fred and George (1), Dobby, Cedric (what a hottie!), Penelope Clearwater, Lee Jordan, Neville, Ginny Weasley, Harry (2), Draco (2), anyone, and Moody! Everyone, tell me which one your favorite is! I want to know! You can only choose one!

Disclaimer: (snorts awake) Uhg? What? Oh yeah, I don't own this. (goes back to sleep)

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Chapter Thirty-five: What Would Professor Flitwick Do For A Klondike Bar?

Professor Flitwick grumbled about a rather obnoxious, blonde, sexy Slytherin student named Tom. Professor Flitwick grumbled about a pot smoking Hufflepuff student named Mike, whom thought it was appropriate to smoke during class. Professor Flitwick grumbled about a rather flirtatious Gryffindor girl named Ginny. In fact, Professor Flitwick grumbled about anyone other than the students in his house, Ravenclaw.

Of course, this was typical of any house leader teacher to be biased when it comes to their house students and other house students. Snape obvious was more susceptible to bad behavior from Slytherins than he was to Gryffindors. For instance, if a Slytherin slipped some coco-lax in Snape's pumpkin/blood juice, Snape would chuckle about it for two seconds and then give the student a detention. If a Gryffindor student did the same thing, there would be one less living student in the school.

McGonagall usually didn't take shit from anyone, but she was also more susceptible to forgiving Gryffindors over Slytherins. That other teacher who was house teacher of Hufflepuff was a mystery. In fact, whoever that teacher was hadn't been seen for 15 years, and no one seemed to mind at all. So we won't talk about her or him.

But Professor Flitwick usually didn't visibly show bias for any students. He'd often grumble silently or privately to himself, but never had he done anything like this.

Above his charms room was a large sign with red lettering that read, "Professor Flitwick is glad jumbucks like you don't get in Ravenclaw." Several students marveled at the professor's potty mouth. Collin took a picture. Slytherins laughed, but at the same time, felt insulted. Nameless Ravenclaws smiled and strutted around like something special.

The professor would've never done something like this without the temptation of a Klondike bar.


	35. Sorting Hat

**The Shortest Short Stories Ever: What Would You Do For A Klondike Bar?**

By Spectra16 (Wow. I finally saw a Klondike Bar commercial on the other day.)

A/N: Sorry for the lack of updates. I've been so very busy with bigger projects. I'm struggling with my sequel to A Dreadfully Convenient Crossover, working on a Criminality (Artemis Fowl fandom) challenge, and a rock version of Phantom of the Opera. So I'm sorry, everyone. Thanks for hanging in there.

Disclaimer: (wearing a wig and talking with a very bad British accent) Yes . . . I am J.K. Rowling. I wrote all that Harry Potter books. And I'm a babe. (The real J.K. Rowling takes out a frying pan and bashes the impersonating author.)

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Chapter Thirty-six: What Would the Sorting Hat Do For A Klondike Bar?

Dumbledore showed the Sorting Hat a small card with some scribbled writing on it. The Sorting Hat snickered a little. Dumbledore smiled.

"I'll give you a Klondike bar if you do this," He said as the Sorting Hat nodded.

Sirius Black, first year, was considerably worried about what house he'd be in. He hadn't slept well for the entire summer before Hogwarts, which was ever since he'd received the letter of acceptance. He wanted to be with James Potter, and James Potter wanted to be in Gryffindor.

Regardless of what the Black family wanted, Sirius wanted to be wherever James was. They'd been friends prior to the school year, closer than anyone could be. Sirius bit his nails, tapped with feet, and groaned a few times before the Sorting Hat was brought out. This was the moment of truth. It would decide on whether his stay at Hogwarts would be a . . . pleasant one. Any house but Slytherin, he decided if he couldn't be with James.

"Sirius Black!" Minerva called, not knowing yet the damage (and gray hairs) that he was about to cause her. Sirius, his legs shaking, stood up and slowly walked to the front of the Hall. With each step, his heart pumped faster. He sat down in the chair as the Sorting Hat was set on his head. He squirmed under it's movement.

"Well, black by nature and Black in heart. Your family has had many great leaders in Slytherin. I'd be wrong to deny you that same fate," The Sorting Hat spoke. Sirius winced with every word. "SLYTHERIN!" The Sorting Hat yelled. Sirius' heart dropped to the floor. This was the worst case scenario. "JK! Just kidding, everyone! He's in Gryffindor!"

From behind Sirius, Dumbledore snickered at his own joke. The Blacks at the Slytherin table all sat there with their jaws dropped.

It was the first year that any student had beat up the Sorting Hat.


End file.
